Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Ghana and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing the Fania All-Stars to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Oblivians,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Throbbing Gristle,
Massinfluence,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Niagra,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
Television,
Joe Smooth,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Cale,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Dave Gahan,
Jacob Miller,
Ice-T,
Sam Rivers,
Sight & Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scion,
Soul Sonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
CMW,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Star Department,
The Vogues,
Arcadia,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
Lower 48,
PIL,
Rapeman,
Nik Kershaw,
Judy Mowatt,
Theoretical Girls,
The Grass Roots,
Icehouse,
kango's stein massive,
The Raincoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tomorrow,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Spandau Ballet,
Franke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lou Reed,
Dennis Brown,
Kerrie Biddell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxette,
Bluetip,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.